


Aristos Achaion

by amerithaikings



Category: GOT7, The Song of Achilles - Madeline Miller
Genre: GOT7_TAROT_19, Greek AU, Greek Mythology AU, M/M, achilles can raw me wait what, achilles/patroclus au, i tried so hard to channel madeline miller, im a slut for greek mythology, jinson, jinson au, no trojan war bc SAD so this is just the fluffy beginning, song of achilles au, you dont have to have read the book to read this!!!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-05
Updated: 2019-08-05
Packaged: 2020-08-09 21:04:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20123818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amerithaikings/pseuds/amerithaikings
Summary: Achilles/Patroclus au. Jinyoung is exiled to the isle of Phthia, where the handsome, talented, and personable Prince Jackson resides. Jinyoung immediately feels resentment towards him, but perhaps his affection is more easily won that he thinks.





	Aristos Achaion

Jinyoung looked around, at all the other teenage boys, and decidedly felt he had never been so out of place. 

The exiled prince looked down at the pallet on the floor he had been designated by the guards and frowned. He could feel the other boys’ stares on him, as they whispered about who he might be and why he was there. Jinyoung was small, scrawny and had a sort of epicene, plump beauty that didn’t seem fit for the training the boys embarked upon on a daily basis. 

Had they asked Jinyoung about his past, Jinyoung wouldn’t have told them the truth. The truth was that in his home of Opus, he had been royalty, until he’d pushed down a much larger boy, the son of a nobleman, who was attempting to steal one of his only gifts in life - a pair of ivory dice. The boy had died instantly from the blunt force of falling on the rock-riddled land. Jinyoung, being a runt of a son in the eyes of his father, wasn’t worth all the trouble. And thus, he was abandoned in Phthia to train for the army, with few possessions and the memory of the boy’s blood-soaked head. 

By the time Jinyoung arrived, it was nearly time for the boys to all eat in the enormous dining hall of the palace. The king of Phthia, King Peleus, was known for his generosity, as could be seen from the multitude of other boys that lounged around Jinyoung and rushed for the best seats at the dining tables. Jinyoung had heard them talking strategy about who they were going to sit with and assumed this was the talk of future soldiers already drummed into them, foreign to Jinyoung’s ears. Not many reached out in any way to him, and occasionally Jinyoung would catch in the chatter the name of Peleus’ son, Jackson. Jinyoung had heard many things about him in Opus.

Firstly, and perhaps most importantly, he was a demigod- this could almost be seen from one look at him, with eyes as alert and bright as the sun, pools of warm honey even in the dead of night. Light seemed to come from within him, and his light brown hair and caramel skin had a bronzed sheen that didn’t come to normal boys at the age of 16, gangly and clumsy in comparison. His mother was a goddess from the sea, and she had been bound to Peleus as a gift from the gods and that only - and once Jackson was born, she returned to land only to see her child. He was a true sportsman, already adept at running and agility. Jinyoung’s father had often spoken about the legend that was Peleus’ son, as Jinyoung had looked downwards, being neither agile nor built for sports. Jinyoung preferred music and the arts- no route for a prince. 

Now, Jinyoung could see that Jackson’s popularity was with the boys too. Jinyoung could recognise him instantly from the crowd of friends that surrounded him and see, from where he was sitting alone, Jackson’s bright smile that drew in the other boys like moths. His companions threw their heads back in laughter at everything he said, and when Jackson looked at them their attention on him was rapt. Jinyoung looked on, with a tugging feeling in his chest at the genuine smiles that Jackson seemed to dole out to anyone that was willing to receive them. Jinyoung was staring.   
Suddenly Jackson’s eyes fell on him, and his expression fell from one of open warmth to slight confusion at the new boy. Before Jinyoung could catch the slight incline of his head as an invitation to join the gaggle of boys, Jinyoung had already returned his gaze to his food, the tips of his ears turning an embarrassing, uncontrollable red. Great, he thought, I’ve already made a fool of myself in front of the most important person here- save for the king. 

No one talked to Jinyoung during dinner, apart from the occasional inquiry into his name and then dismissive tone once the boys realised Jinyoung wasn’t important. The sight of a couple of them playing dice made Jinyoung feel nauseous at the memory of the dead boy, and every time he thought about the sight burned in his memory his stomach jumped with sickness. He wondered how early he could retire back to his room without seeming more odd than he already looked, and clambered out of his seat as soon as he saw boys starting to leave the room. The action went mainly unnoticed, except for a certain prince, whose eyes were trained on the boy who walked with his head down and shoulders hunched. 

Jinyoung was a recluse, and ignored the other boys’ speculations as he pretended to be asleep. 

-

It had been a restless couple hours of sleep, and Jinyoung awoke in the middle of the night gasping and coughing from the suffocation that was his nightmare. 

“Shut up, man.” said a boy a couple years older than Jinyoung from the pallet next to him. Jinyoung quietened his breathing and tried his best to tire himself back into sleep by keeping his eyes open and transfixed on the ceiling. 

When breakfast had passed, the boys eagerly rushed to training under the hot morning sun, and Jinyoung could see now how he was so much paler than his peers. They started with spear training, and Jinyoung’s smooth hands ached under the weight of the foreign object. He had callouses from the lyre on his fingertips, but he was nowhere well-equipped enough to deal with the weapon. The teachers tirelessly corrected how his hand lay on it, and yet Jinyoung could barely hit the target laid out for him. The lack of sleep settled as a dull pain behind his eyes, and he had to squint against the light to heave the shaft of wood as boys around him kicked the dust from the courtyard up and he inhaled. While this sort of thing came naturally to them, Jinyoung was a disappointment. Prince Jackson was nowhere to be seen. 

During breaks from the training, boys went down to the beach to cool themselves in the waves or play games on the ochre sand. Jinyoung was left alone, as he hung his head in exhaustion in the shade. He resented his peers’ abilities to heft the spears in arcs and share in camaraderie around him. The most resentful moments, however, came at mealtimes, when Jackson relentlessly caught his eye. 

Perhaps the most frustrating thing to Jackson was how unaware he seemed of his own perfection. He blossomed socially and visually, with his tanned skin catching the sunlight whereas Jinyoung’s began to burn after the day outdoors. Jinyoung was awkward and had baby fat in his face, whereas Jackson seemed carved out of stone already. There was no sense that he needed to grow into any of his features; they already suited him. Without fail Jackson caught Jinyoung staring at mealtimes, and Jinyoung’s skill would prickle with an unnamed irritation. 

-

Through gossip among the corridors, the reason for Jinyoung’s exile became known. And if Jinyoung had disliked his life in Phthia before, he absolutely despised it now.   
Despite the fact Jinyoung hadn’t acted in any menacing way (for Zeus’ sake, he could barely hold a bow), the boys around him were suddenly terrified of him, avoiding eye contact and any sort of interaction. Whereas before the worst part of Jinyoung’s day had been the nightmares waiting for him when he closed his eyes, now he lived a sort of constant nightmare filled with paranoia in whispers and pointed stares. He wasn’t getting any better at hauling weapons or shooting arrows, and now he was seen as some kind of a psychopath on the edge of murder by those who were supposed to be his fellow soldiers-in-training. His acrimony towards the ever-perfect Jackson grew. It’s not that Jinyoung needed to be liked by people; he was simply always quite personable with the palace staff at Opus and wasn’t used to the amount of acidity towards him- even the disappointment from his own father had not been this widespread or hurtful. At least his father had known who he was. 

One dinner three weeks into Jinyoung’s exile, he made his way, head always down, to the table that was all but reserved for him and only him as people stayed away from him. But instead of being silent and empty, it was jostling with activity that only one person could bring. Jinyoung, being as stubborn as a mule, decided that the boys could take away his happiness, and his confidence, whatever there had been before his move to Phthia, but they were not going to take away his table. The boys seemed to part naturally as Jinyoung strolled up and sat down in the limited space on the bench. He kept his gaze downwards but could feel Jackson’s heavy stare on him. Jinyoung looked up to meet him, in irritation at not being left alone (despite his loneliness being what he had despised during his time in Phthia thus far), but the feeling died down as he met Jackson’s curious, round, friendly eyes. One of the other boys nudged Jackson’s shoulder and the look was broken, the smile reappearing on his face as if it had never left. Fantastic, now others were looking at Jinyoung as if to ask, why does the psycho get the attention?

At the end of the meal, Jackson tossed an apple from the bowl in the centre of the table his way, the corner of his lip quirking upwards, before turning to toss the remaining apples to boys around the benches and keeping one for himself. Jinyoung tracked the apple’s way to Jackson’s mouth, watching how he crunched into the fruit and its juice shone on his naturally pouted mouth. He did the same, and wondered where his irritation had gone, and if his acceptance could be so easily bought. 

Jinyoung had started to skip his training sessions. Not his smartest idea, granted, but he was beginning to feel breathless from his sense of lacking. Lacking in any kind of combat skills, lacking in sparring, lacking in friends- no one even glanced his way unless aiming for him with rocks during their cruel games during breaks from daily training. He had stashed himself away, curled in a corner of the dormitories and was attempting to right his breathing, when the door burst open. Jinyoung flinched, and didn’t look to see who’d entered until he felt a gentle hand on his knee.   
It was Jackson, with a deep crease in his brow. 

“You’re the boy they’re looking for? Jinyoung?” His voice was deep and melodic, and to be the focus of his attention… well, Jinyoung understood the fawning attention Jackson received at mealtimes.   
“Yes.”  
“The one who has been ignoring training.”  
Jinyoung felt a flush of embarrassment as his cowardice flowed so easily from Jackson. The silence was answer enough.  
“Why?” Jackson sat down now, stretching one leg out next to Jinyoung’s, the other pulled taut against him. Jinyoung looked downwards.   
“Surely you’ve heard what I’m here for; the boys think I’m about to kill them at any second.”   
Jackson emitted a peal of laughter, the laughter that Jinyoung had heard many times from across the dining hall.   
“Had you said the King is looking for me?”   
Jackson snapped out of his laughter. “Yes, yes- you need some excuse as to why you haven’t been in practices.”   
Jinyoung was stumped. He looked into Jackson’s face for some kind of help.   
“I… I don’t have an excuse. I-” Jinyoung was beginning to panic. If he were found out, he’d most likely be publicly punished, which would worsen his position in the hierarchy of boys even further, if that was even possible. Jackson ran a hand down Jinyoung’s arm as the latter’s eyes brimmed with tears.  
“Shh, now. No need to panic. I- well. I can just say that you were with me. In my lessons.”   
“You’d… Lie? For me? For what reason?”   
Jackson shrugged. “Why does it have to be a lie?”  
Jackson grabbed Jinyoung’s hand, and pulled him up and through a maze of corridors.   
“Where are we going?”   
“To my lyre lessons.”   
“You… Play music?”  
Jackson threw a wink over his shoulder. 

Now this, Jinyoung could get used to. Jackson let Jinyoung have a turn on his beautifully carved lyre, much to his tutor’s chagrin, and the latter was playing one of the tunes his mother had taught him before he left Opus. Jackson was sprawled on a kline, while Jinyoung sat on the floor.   
“You do that well.”   
Jinyoung flushed.   
“Thank you. I’m nowhere near as gifted as you are, though.” And it was true - while Jinyoung may have enjoyed the lyre, Jackson’s fingers danced across the strings with an unnatural grace.   
“Well, I suppose I may have some kind unfair advantage.” Jackson grinned.   
Jackson turned to his tutor.   
“Can Jinyoung learn with us? I know we have at least one lyre to spare.”   
While Jinyoung liked playing, it was more satisfying to watch the look on Jackson’s face as he played, and hear the sweet, full melody that came from the instrument. 

After the lesson, Jackson rose and sighed.   
“We’ll have to explain our new arrangement to my father; he’s probably still sending people to look for you.”  
The knot of anxiety was back in Jinyoung’s stomach, and his feet felt rooted to the safe ground of the music room.   
Jackson smiled again, a look that came so naturally to his face that it looked wrong without it, and grabbed Jinyoung’s hand again, once again being his leader. 

Jinyoung’s things were brought to Jackson’s room, after Jinyoung was proclaimed by Jackson to be his blood-brother companion. Jackson said so so casually that Jinyoung wasn’t sure if Jackson understood what the word meant. But there was a fierce determination in Jackson’s eyes that made Jinyoung think otherwise.   
“Him? Jackson-”  
“Father, I have thought about this carefully.” He clearly hasn’t, Jinyoung thought.   
“Jinyoung.” He was beckoned forwards.   
The king inspected Jinyoung. Used a finger to turn his head via his cheek.   
Peleus huffed. Then he waved them away with a hand, like a regular father resigned to his son’s antics, not a king bowing down to his son’s stubborn rash decisions. Jinyoung liked him. 

That night, Jackson didn’t want to sleep. He asked Jinyoung about his life at Opus, and Jinyoung answered. He could feel himself relaxing- the image of the lone wolf had been difficult to maintain. Jinyoung could let go.   
“Can I tell you something? A prophecy, told to me by my mother.” Jackson rolled over in his pallet to look at Jinyoung with eyes unguarded and near-painfully honest. He looked unashamed, and Jinyoung looked unashamedly into them.   
“If you want,”   
“I’m going to be the best warrior in the world. Best of the Greeks. Aristos Achaion.”   
Jinyoung looked at him, searched his face of arrogance and found nothing. Jackson’s face broke out into a grin and he turned away. 

“If I don’t see you fight in training, how am I meant to know that you truly are the best warrior in the world?” Jinyoung said with a sly smile in his voice, after Jackson told him that he couldn’t accompany him to his private training.   
Jackson rolled his eyes good-naturedly. How different their dynamic had become, in just a day. Jinyoung bloomed under friendship, opened up like a flower to Jackson’s extroversion. 

-

They became quick and fast companions, racing and wrestling in the sand during Jackson’s breaks and playing music on the lyre, with Jinyoung sometimes singing in accompaniment. Jackson would always end up victorious, with swift movement and substantial weight in his body, but Jinyoung never felt truly inferior, instead admiring the curve of Jackson’s calf or the solidity of his torso. The grit of the sand of the shore hung in their hair, and on Jinyoung his hair fell limp in his eyes, but Jackson’s hair welcomed the sand and the sea spray, and tousled charmingly around his face. Jinyoung could see clearly the sea nymph in him, in the way the Aegean reflected near-violet in his eyes.   
“Do you miss your mother?” Jinyoung asked.   
“No. I see her almost weekly.”   
“Where?”   
“I meet her here, by the sea, at night. She doesn’t like to be seen by mortals.”   
Mortals. That word was foreign to Jinyoung, but Jackson said it naturally as if he were not one. The unsaid question hung in the air. “She sees everything I do.”  
“Does she know of me?”   
Jackson let out a huff of laughter, “Of course. I’ll be frank - she doesn’t like mortals.”   
Jinyoung laughed a little and turned onto his back, throwing his forearm across his face to shield his eyes from the sun.   
“What does she look like?”   
“She’s very beautiful,” Jinyoung could hear the smile in Jackson’s voice, and wanted to say as you are, but stopped himself as one would trying to resist a temptation.   
“Her skin shines as if from within, white as pearls. Her hair is dark as the night, and she has an… aura about her that is unlike any normal person. She is intimidating.”   
“I’m not afraid.”   
Jackson turned to study Jinyoung with his lively, glossy eyes.   
“I know.”   
“I think… I think you look like her.”   
Jackson’s smiled widened, and Jinyoung stared into it as Helios climbed slowly across the sky.   
“Thank you.” Jackson stood, offering his hand out to Jinyoung. Jackson was never tired of helping. “Come. Let’s sing.” 

Boys around them were slowly beginning to notice the slave-girls, calling them to their rooms and flirting with them at mealtimes. Jinyoung caught Jackson staring at the boys’ actions, and for once Jackson’s face was utterly unreadable. Jinyoung nudged Jackson’s thigh with his own, and Jackson jumped, as if being caught guilty in some act.   
At night, in bed, Jinyoung asked, “Would you like me to, um, sleep elsewhere for one night?”   
Jackson’s strong brow creased.   
“Why would I like that?”   
Jinyoung was glad for the cover of darkness that hid the flush that blossomed upon his cheeks.   
“So you can… bring one of the girls to your bed.”   
Jackson burst out laughing, and the blush deepened.   
“I definitely do not want that, not at the moment anyways. Ahem, do you… would you… like to do that?”   
JInyoung cringed. “I haven’t really thought about it much.”   
“You haven’t?” Jackson turned to face Jinyoung, his bright eyes apparent in the dark.   
“You have?”   
Jackson paused, staring at Jinyoung’s no doubt incredulous face.   
“Maybe we should just go to sleep.”  
“Do you think I’m weird for not having thought about it?” Jinyoung asked, his voice wavering slightly with uncertainty.   
Jackson’s eyes took on a sad look, for the first time in Jinyoung’s experience.   
“Jinyoung. I could never think you were anything but incredible.”   
Jinyoung’s chest swelled with emotion. He felt a weight lift off, the years of being a disappointment to his family, the other boys disappear. Because to Jackson - perfect, agile, warrior, friend Jackson - he was incredible. 

Jinyoung couldn’t stop thinking about what Jackson had said, why he had rebuked the idea so vehemently, why they had both been so embarrassed. Most importantly, why Jinyoung had never considered the idea himself. 

“Guess what I’m thinking of.”   
The boys’ friendship had developed hard and fast, like the rushing of sap at the beginnings of spring. Apart from Jackson’s private drills and his music lessons, he did not have any kind of princely duties, so many of the boys’ afternoons were spent in lazy companionship. They often basked on rocks until their skin held Helios’ heat, or let their chitons blow in the gusts of wind, making them glitter with sea-spray.   
A smile graced Jinyoung’s lips, an action that was now common. Around Jackson, he felt free and full of laughter until he felt unable to breathe. “I don’t know.”   
“Persephone.”  
It was Jackson’s favourite story, and despite the fact he wanted to evade her wrath at all costs, Jackson loved imagining the conspiracy of smuggling pomegranate seeds to be tied to your love forever.   
“You seem quite the romantic, Jackson.” Jinyoung sat on a flattened rock that was cantilevered just above where the tide rolled in. Jackson jumped up next to him elegantly, much more elegant than Jinyoung had been, and shifted so his muscled legs lay across Jinyoung’s.   
“Maybe I am. Is it a bad thing?” Jackson’s skin glowed as the first press of olives, and Jinyoung rested his hand on the stretch of skin below the former’s chiton carefully. Jinyoung looked into Jackson’s content face and felt a similar emotion wash over him in sync with the rolling of the water beneath them.  
“No. Not at all.”   
Jackson moved upright, and Jinyoung felt a hand brush the too-long strands that framed his face backwards. He felt a brush of lips on his cheek, and then Jackson was turning his head to press his lips on Jinyoung’s. It was saccharine, and Jinyoung felt himself almost pathetically following Jackson’s mouth as he pulled away.   
Jackson didn’t look scared, or embarrassed. He only looked the way Jinyoung knew him- open, honest, earnest. Jinyoung studied his face a moment; the slope of his nose, his high cheekbones and the pools of sweet honey in his eyes, and the way he rolled his pouted lips against his teeth. Jinyoung leaned in again instantly.   
Jackson made a noise of surprise, but responded to Jinyoung by lowering him down onto the rock, while Jinyoung reached up to Jackson’s sun-lightened hair.   
“Jackson, won’t your mother, won’t she-”  
“I don’t care. She can look away,”   
Jinyoung let out a peal of laughter. He had never been so happy in all his life, not content because of an absence of his father, or the absence of the weight of being a failure, lacking, a disappointment. Instead, he was content because of a presence. It was all Jinyoung could think. Jackson, Jackson Jackson. Aristos Achaion. Best of the Greeks.

**Author's Note:**

> woo!! If anyone would like a second part to this/more greek stuff let me know. I'm so honoured to be a part of this fest with so many incredible creators and I know that this will be very bad in comparison but u know what,,,,,, it is what it is. See y'all


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